


Old Places, New Starts

by Spike_1790



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spike_1790/pseuds/Spike_1790
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-series. Spike goes home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Places, New Starts

He never planned on going back. When he left, he had the house out under a spell, ashes and all. But it had stood firm. Through Victoria’s reign, through two world wars, through bombings and riots it stood. It survived the punk era. Not a speck of graffiti touched the house’s walls. It stood through Thatcher’s stint in power. It looked on as Elizabeth was crowned. It survived the very worst the elements could throw at it- hail storms, thunder, lightning, wind, rain and still the house remained. Maybe it was the spell keeping the sturdy brickwork hidden from the eyes of the world and the weather. Maybe the house was just trying to prove Drusilla wrong. The first and only time she had stepped into the house, she had whispered in his ear. _Ashes, ashes, all fall down._ He told himself she had been talking about the building, because it hurt too much to think of other things- people- that had fallen to ashes there.

Standing in front of it, even he could see the changes in the world, but not in the house. When he had left, the street had been lit with the soft glow of gas lamps. Now, towering metal lamp posts glared out bright light. Bright to his eyes, at least. The street had cars parked by the curbs next to other houses, a far cry from the world of horse drawn carriages he had still half expected. He had been back to England since his turning, but not to this place, to this street. Part of him wanted the universe to reverse time just for him, so he could step inside and be home again.  

Xander took Spike’s hand, ending the internal battle. Both of them had decided to take a holiday, check in with Giles and the newly re-formed Watcher’s Council. Spike’s home, the home he had grown up in, was filled with antiques. It had been a rainy night when Spike had announced that he wanted to sell some of the pieces to help Giles out. Xander supposed that it had been the rain that had reminded Spike of England in the first place. The blonde had looked sad, staring out the rain streaked window of their tiny apartment that Xander had started to talk him out of it, but Spike was stubborn when he set his mind to something. Spike had phoned Giles that night, seemingly unmoved by the other man’s repeated thanks. When he hung up the phone, he had told Xander that it was the right thing to do before capturing the brunette’s lips in a searing kiss, which lead to passionate love making that drove all other thoughts from their minds.

In the street, thousands of miles from their warm, comfy home, it started to rain, mirroring that night for a moment before the storm above them broke and torrents of water streamed down, chased by the smell of ozone, warning them of the approaching storm. Together they ran for the shelter of the front porch, but even in the seconds it took them to cross the street, they were soaked to the skin. Spike said the words to lift the spell and unlocked the door. Xander took in the sight- hardwood floors, ornate furniture, expensive paintings; not a single bit of it had decayed during its century long hibernation.

From the second he stepped inside, it seemed as though Spike shifted into autopilot, becoming the man he used to be again. The wet coat was pulled off and hung neatly on the cloak stand that stood by the door. The boots were removed too and placed in line with the out-dated shoes that still sat there, waiting for their owners. Xander followed suit, unsure of what he should do. Spike jogged up the wide staircase, returning just moments later with two soft towels. He threw one to Xander and dropped the other on the bottom step. Stepping forward, he began to undress his lover. Xander caught up with what was happening, helping Spike’s own clothes to the floor, where their bodies soon joined them, consumed by need and want and desire.

Their quiet moans soon escalated to shouts, punctuated only by the crash of thunder from outside. Xander’s body willingly let Spike in, until the vampire was buried deep inside the warm human flesh. Shouts became screams when Spike changed angles slightly and the head of his cock nudged Xander’s prostate. And then it was over. Spike froze above the human’s body, all his muscles rigid as his cool spend pumped into the tight hole. At the feel of cool fluid filling him, Xander’s own orgasm hit, his body taut as his own cum splashed over their bellies.

Panting for breath in the wake of the powerful moment, Spike gently eased out of Xander’s body. Their hands joined as both lay back on the cold, hardwood floor, revelling in their shared afterglow. Around them, the house groaned, settling for the night. Spike kissed Xander’s cheek and decided that boxing things up for auction could wait another few days. After all, he had a room upstairs, ready for his wedding night, and, while it probably wasn’t what his parents would have approved of, he was going to make love to his Xander there until both were sated and happy. He would have said as much to the brunette, but when he turned his head again to speak, Xander was already asleep on the floor. Spike joined him soon after.


End file.
